


An Apt Match Among the Stars

by InsertSthMeaningful



Category: Alien (Prequel Movies), Prometheus (2012)
Genre: Alpha Meredith Vickers, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, David 8 is a Creepy Robot Weirdo, Exhibitionism, F/F, Fix-It of Sorts, Knotting, Male Genitals on a Female Character, Meredith Vickers is a Jealous Bastard, Omega Elizabeth Shaw, Other, Pansexual Acts, Pansexual Elizabeth Shaw, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Smut, Voyeurism, bannedtogetherbingo2020, i guess?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-19
Updated: 2020-07-19
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:33:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,281
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25377706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InsertSthMeaningful/pseuds/InsertSthMeaningful
Summary: Meredith Vickers - the only alpha left on the Prometheus after Charlie Holloway's death - comes across a grieving Elizabeth Shaw by accident. The omega is alone, safe for David keeping watch at her bedside.Let's just say that things happen.
Relationships: Elizabeth Shaw (Alien Movies)/Meredith Vickers, mild David 8/Elizabeth Shaw (Alien Movies)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 17
Collections: Banned Banned Together Bingo 2020, Banned Together Bingo 2020





	An Apt Match Among the Stars

**Author's Note:**

> My fill for the Banned Together Bingo 2020's prompt 'Pansexual Acts'. 
> 
> I didn't care to ask someone for a beta since no one's going to read this rare ship, anyway, but oh well... enjoy!

The day after Charlie Holloway’s death, Meredith is passing the door to Shaw’s quarters on her way to the bridge, when something in the air makes her stop dead in her tracks.

She inhales deeply, soundlessly. It’s a sweet, subtle scent that coats her airways, comes to cling to her clothes and hair immediately. Quite unlike the bitter stench of pheromones muddled by heat suppressants, or the aggressively spicy odor when those aren’t involved.

It’s the smell of an omega grieving their mate.

She sighs, remembering the weight of the flame thrower in her hands; Shaw’s agonized screams; the sound of Holloway’s body hitting the rocky ground. And her own fear, clawing up her throat, rendering her speechless as her crew stood and stared and then finally unfroze to clean up the mess.

Meredith swallows. It’s not like her to feel guilt, or shame. If she was not the heartless and cunning alpha she is, she wouldn’t have come so far as to even hear about this space mission Weyland has arranged. But this time… This time, something is different.

 _Someone_ is different.

Deciding that her talk with Janek about the other two missing scientists can wait, she draws nearer to Shaw’s door. It’s slightly ajar, and there is no sound coming from the twilight beyond. Only warmth, and that scent like jasmine and white chocolate wafting into her face.

She doesn’t stop herself from licking her lips. As it is, it’s already an effort not to just barge in like a predator without brains.

When Meredith knocks at the door frame, her hands are shaking and white-knuckled, fingernails digging crescent shapes into her palm.

“Shaw?” she calls, pushing open the door so a sliver of a few inches of dim light can filter through, slanting over the coffee table littered with scientific mission records and empty food packages. The grey shapes beyond that she can just so identify as the bed, its blandly uniform covers heaped high over a vaguely human-shaped lump who doesn’t even so much as budge when she takes one step over the door sill.

“Doctor Shaw?” she prompts again, lower this time, making sure the words roll up from the back of her throat. She has found that giving in to her growling alpha nature just so can make omegas much more receptive to her commands.

As predicted, she finally elicits a response.

The Shaw-shaped bulge under the linen rolls over with a grunt before Shaw herself pokes out her head. Meredith squints, thinks she can make out matted strands of the omega’s otherwise so luscious hair plastered to her forehead.

“What?”

The inquiry is gruff, expressionless. So very far from an invite.

“Doctor Shaw, may I come in?” Meredith asks nonetheless. “We have certain things do discuss.”

She thinks she can see the omega nodding, so she swings the door all the way open and feels for the light switch to her right. The ceramic of the wall is cold beneath her fingers.

Only milliseconds before she flips the switch to bathe the room in a cold ivory glow does she notice the other, much weaker scent in the room.

David gets up from where he’s been sitting on the edge of Shaw’s bed, back ramrod straight, a small pleasant smile on his face. “Good morning, ma’am,” he – or it, whatever a machine’s pronouns are – addresses Meredith, and she wishes there wasn’t so much distance between them so she could rip his tin can head right of his tin can body.

Then, she pays closer attention to the smell he is diffusing – probably through artificial pores in his artificial skin over his artificial frame – and frowns.

 _Omega._ The scent is weak, compared to Shaw’s. Stale, unattractive. Like rubber and the stone-cold, dead surface of enamel. But it’s definitely manufactured to imitate an omega’s pheromones.

“What are you doing here?” she asks, not bothering with any niceties.

His smile persists. She thinks she can see arrogance simmer beneath it. The knowledge – or rather assumption – that he is superior to them, the humans, in that he was designed to be perfect.

“Ma’am,” he replies, posture so goddamn polite she really is tempted to stride up to him and rip him in two, “I am simply keeping Elizabeth company. As you know, my primary purpose on this mission is the welfare of the crew, and since you, Elizabeth and the late Doctor Holloway are the only members of said crew who are – or were – not betas, I am the only potential omega contact she has. I hope you don’t mind.”

Oh, but she does. She can’t say it in front of Shaw, but she _does fucking mind_. Of course, it is overly beneficial that the ship’s android is capable of adopting any secondary gender role – alpha, beta, omega – and that he will simulate omega company for the grieving Doctor who has just lost her mate. Omegas look after other omegas, helping them with nesting, child-rearing or loss, as in this case.

However, Meredith also knows her fair share about androids, as well as her father’s antics in designing them. The 8th incarnation of David might be Weyland Corp’s prime model, but that won’t keep him from forming opinions; prioritizing the wrong part of his base functions; growing curious about what he can do with his abilities, and therefore becoming faulty.

She can admire the ardor with which her father was dedicated to his work. She _cannot_ comprehend his thought process behind his giving his creations the chance to develop free will.

“Did you give him your consent?” she asks, focus sliding away from the infuriating android to home in on Shaw’s face over the covers, who is still flushed with the weak farewell heat her mate’s death has brought about. “Do you really want him there?”

Shaw hesitates. It’s clear she hasn’t put much thought into letting David keep watch over her right at her bedside, where the manipulative little shit could switch from omega to alpha pheromones in the blink of an eye.

Meredith feels a growl building deep in her chest. It’s outrageous, the careless way in which this woman lets herself trust so unquestioningly. She is everything Meredith herself is not: naive; pious; devoted to science, coveting that which is insubstantial and useless for gaining power.

And still, there is something magnetic about her. It’s not her kind, soft omega face, or the way her hips curve under her jumpsuit, or her smile, so sweet and gentle.

Meredith has never taken much pleasure in what society regards as the perfect omega; devout to their alpha only, with nothing but the wish for children and pleasing their mate in mind.

In fact, she rather prefers her wine with a slight undercurrent of spice.

She remembers Holloway and Shaw presenting their project to the crew after they had all crawled out of their cryotubes, retching and coughing. There was a spark in the omega’s eyes, one that neither the skepticism of the crew nor the blandness of their environment was able to extinguish. And then the way she stood upright, unyielding, when Meredith got all up in her face about the true purpose of their expedition.

Shaw is no damsel in distress. And she certainly isn’t one for letting herself be patronized.

Meredith decides to make her move. Here, now. It’s not like there will ever be a better occasion.

“Don’t you prefer a real alpha?” she croons, sidling over to sit down at the bed’s foot. “I could make you forget it all. I could make the pain go away.”

Shaw’s foot under the covers twitches. David just keeps standing there, like some mannequin from a horror movie set.

Breathing in deeply, Meredith savors the real omega’s scent, eyelids at half-mast. Really, she has to admit her regret for not allowing Holloway medical attention is melting by the minute, just as her attraction to this newly-widowed woman is growing. Already, she feels the pheromones taking their toll on her body, making her glands swell, sending white-hot need coursing down her spine. If she isn’t careful, she might fly into a rut herself.

Before, she would never have dreamed of courting Shaw. Already bonded, such a shame. But Meredith preferred not to stir up any unnecessary rivalry on a scientific expedition, light-years from earth no less.

Now, however, she might as well go all in.

“Maybe I don’t want you right now,” Shaw growls. “Maybe I don’t want _any alpha_ right now. Maybe I just want to be bloody left alone.” Her body language, though, speaks volumes about how serious she is not: propped up against the headboard; bare arms and shoulders quivering; eyes blazing with want.

Meredith edges closer. Just an inch, but David is monitoring her movements closely.

Then, he seems to get caught by surprise, his posture growing even stiffer, when Shaw lunges forward. Her lips, searing like liquid steel, meet Meredith’s, her hands tighten on her shoulders like iron clamps.

Poor tin can, Meredith thinks for the fraction of a second. There’s no way David could have anticipated this.

“Have a go,” Shaw hisses after she's drawn back from Meredith's lips, “show me what you’ve got. Show me that you’re really so much better than Charlie like you think you are.”

Honestly, Meredith isn’t even in the last taken aback by the fact that Shaw noticed. And she certainly doesn’t have to be told twice. Because now, there’s a gorgeously fierce omega in her arms, smelling like that cream-filled, chocolate-doused pastry her father would never let her have at the backer’s, with slick already leaking from between her thighs.

“David,” she grunts, hoisting Shaw on her lap, “close the door on your way out.”

In her arms, Shaw tenses. “No,” comes her biting voice, “he stays.”

Meredith frowns. Her fingers pause, digging into the omega’s hips already, about to discard the narrow, bone-white slip which is the only thing covering her crotch. Separating Meredith from what she wants, what she needs, what she _desires_ with the very core of her being.

“Why?” she asks, teeth grinding together.

Shaw gives a breathy laugh, one that makes Meredith want to kiss her senseless until she’s gasping for air. “Do you really think we omegas only care about biological attraction? He’s a sight for sore eyes, alpha or not, human or not. We ought to keep him around for… later entertainment.”

Right. Beautiful and fierce and with an actual mind of her own.

“Alright, fine. But he has to turn that fake smell off. His stench is bothering me.”

Shaw gives the android a nod. Meredith doesn’t even bother to turn around and check to see if he does as he’s told.

Instead, she dives in, getting at what she can with her lips, her tongue – her teeth. Shaw dissolves into gasps beneath her touches, quivers, hands holding onto Meredith’s shoulders for dear life.

Then, finally, _finally_ , Meredith gets a grip on Shaw’s panties and pulls.

Immediately, slick gushes forth from between the omega’s thighs, no longer held in check by the rough white fabric, and Shaw _moans_. Her fingers clamp down harder on Meredith’s biceps, sure to leave bruises.

“Take me,” she croons, “make me feel it, everything, _anything_.”

“Do you want me?” Meredith asks, one hand sliding down, down, towards the dark triangle between Shaw’s legs.

“I need you.” Hazel eyes flash as they meet Meredith’s.

“Do you _want_ me?”

“I want you. I _want_ you.”

And as if to emphasise, Shaw leans forward, catches Meredith’s lower lip between her teeth and bites, gently, but with insistence.

Meredith feels her spine gripped by a shiver. This is as close as alpha and omega can get to bond-biting each other without staking the actual claim. Had Shaw set her sights on the hormone gland just above Meredith’s clavicle instead, there would have been absolutely no going back.

“Fine,” Meredith breathes, just so managing to keep the tremor from her voice. “Ready yourself.”

Her left hand is met with no resistance when it slips between Shaw’s thighs, when her fingers slide lower between Shaw’s searing folds and are coated with slick in an instant. Under the palm of her right hand, she can feel the soft vibrations of the omega’s mews, her crooning, and then her satisfied purr when Shaw throws her head back and leans into Meredith’s touch ghosting over her rib cage.

Taking her sweet time, Meredith first sets off to explore Shaw’s lower regions, between the tufts of rough, grating pubes. Her pressing down on Shaw’s clit gets rewarded with a purr so loud half the ship must have heard them and what they are doing by now, and then the omega shouts when Meredith pinches one of her rosy nipples - once, gently, but not too gently.

Shaw is perfect. Unlike any omega Meredith has had before. Her gorgeous petite frame hides nothing of her secondary gender and yet, as Meredith slides her hands over her back, her breasts – which are perfect little handfuls – she feels the calloused firmness of it all. Shaw may be an omega, but she doesn’t let this push her into letting her body and mind’s potential go to waste.

Only when Shaw gives a frustrated growl and a hard tug at Meredith’s ponytail does she take the final warning for what it is. Gingerly, gently, she feels for Shaw’s cunt, and as she slides one finger inside, the omega’s walls clamp down on it like vices.

“You must be so desperate under all that calm demeanor,” Meredith breathes and pushes up, up, until the tip of her fingers grazes Shaw’s leaking cervix.

“Screw you,” is all the answer she gets before the omega groans, grinds her hips down onto Meredith’s hand, tears at her mercury-gray uniform with greedy hands.

Meredith smirks. Pulls out a little to add a second, then a third finger, delighted by how loose Shaw is. How well she will be able to take her. “Soon,” she growls, “soon you’ll have me without clothes. But first, I want to savor this.”

She knows her pants must be straining. Already, she is desperately, desperately hard and leaking at the same time. Shaw’s scent coats her airways, heavy, saturating, David’s artificial stench – a pale imitation of the real thing _at best_ \- has finally dissipated.

It’s both heaven and hell. Pure, unadulterated _want_ is burning her up from the inside out.

“Jesus, just–” Shaw moans, purrs, and grips Meredith’s shoulders in ecstasy. Her bangs are slicked against her forehead where she has it thrown back into the pillows. “I _will_ hurt you.”

“Then hurt me.” Meredith grins.

The omega doesn’t have to be told twice. Fingernails tearing at Meredith’s shirt, she doesn’t give a damn for the buttons popping off like projectiles – some hit David, and he takes them with an indifferent smile, his dead gray eyes already tracking them on the floor probably to pick them up later – or for the alpha woman’s elated gasps.

And then, when she pulls the cloth from Meredith’s shoulders and chucks it on the floor, Shaw grins.

“Trousers next,” she tells Meredith and wiggles back into her pillows, cat-got-the-cream smile on her face as she tracks Meredith’s breasts under the sparse covering of her bra. “And then take me. Take me right.”

“Ma’am–”

“Shut up, David,” Meredith snaps – and the robot complies. What a relief.

With swift, efficient movements Meredith unzips her trousers to shuck out of them, together with her underwear. Her cock is hanging rock-hard between her thighs, her knot already swelling at the base, and even though her cunt only self-lubricates sparsely like a beta’s, she knows she’s wetter than she’s ever been in her life. “David, dim the lights,” she throws the android’s way, eyes glued to the feast of writhing, _fragrant_ omega in front of her.

“Yes, Ma’am.”

By the time David returns from turning the overhead lamp down to a bearable twilight, Meredith has already gripped Shaw’s waist, has one of the omega’s sweet, soft thighs thrown over her shoulder, and is sinking into her, struggling for breath as the redhead clamps down around her in spasms, claws at her back in tear-stained relief.

There are no words. No words. Meredith wants it to never, ever stop.

When she bottoms out, Shaw’s teeth are clenched, her eyelashes quivering as she blinks and moans and gasps for breath.

“All good?” Meredith slurs more than asks.

Shaw takes a few heartbeats to answer, eyes dazed and hung with lust. “So good. _Better_ than good, in fact.”

Hooking Shaw’s other leg over her elbow, Meredith purrs back in delight and begins to move slowly, languidly, her pace picking up with no hurry.

David at Shaw’s bedside just sits and stares, that uncanny, disgusting scientific curiosity distorting his features into a mild smile. Oh, how he unnerves Meredith. But if it’s his being here it takes to get into Shaw’s pants, she’ll stand him.

Shaw groans when Meredith’s know begins to catch at her rim. “By Jove.”

“May I…?”

Meredith knows she’s insinuating madness. For an omega to be knotted shortly after having been left widowed may not be unusual, and knotting without a bond between the concerned alpha and omega is more commonly accepted than you might think, but to compromise their mission’s safety through their private affairs…

Then again, if she wanted to keep private and professional matters apart, Meredith shouldn’t have stepped over Shaw’s doorsill in the first place. And if Shaw harbored any doubt, she surely wouldn’t have received her so gratefully.

“Christ, just put it in me,” Shaw answers – as Meredith expected; as she hoped.

Where the omega commands, the alpha follows. Meredith pushes in a few more times – long, languid strokes, embellished by Shaw’s half-pained, half-ecstatic moans underneath her – and then doesn’t pull out any more.

In her chest, the overwhelming desire to gather the mewling, purring, _writhing_ omega in front of her close grows and grows. And oh, it would indeed be so ludicrously easy: grasping the back of Shaw’s head; mouthing at her jaw, her throat, before sinking her teeth where Holloway’s bond bite is already beginning to fade – and then, Meredith would let Shaw do the very same to her.

But not this time. This time, Meredith will keep herself in check. If anything, she is patient.

So, she can do nothing but shudder as Shaw’s high makes the omega quiver beneath her hands, gasp out half-finished curses and moans as her orgasm hits her in waves and her insides contract around Meredith’s cock. Drops of sweat are pearling between her breasts, and all it takes to tip Meredith over the edge, to make her groan and come in fits and spasms inside of Shaw, is her leaning down to lick at the gleaming strip of skin, Shaw’s myriad of sweet, salty, head-turning tastes coating her palate.

Before they can catch their breath – Meredith panting, slumped over Shaw’s sweet, pliable form, her arms bracketing the omega’s head in the pillows –, David is leaning forward.

“May I begin to prepare an abortive countermeasure against Miss Vicker’s semen for you, Elizabeth?” he asks, and there is a miffed undertone to his voice. Like Meredith is an insolent child who just trampled all over one of his precious scientific experiments – Holloway’s and Shaw’s last sexual intercourse being said experiment. Of course, it is common knowledge that a deceased alpha’s seed will lose its potency once the omega carrying it in their belly is knotted through their farewell heat by another alpha so very soon, but Meredith doesn’t see in what way this concerns her ship’s android.

Instead of answering David, Shaw leans up sluggishly – dazed with the hormones knotting lets loose in an omega’s body, Meredith thinks for a very short, very proud second – and draws him down to meet her kiss.

If her knot wasn’t keeping her in place, Meredith would draw back in disgust. But as it is, she has to watch David’s eyes widen fractionally in surprise – as though not even his oh-so brilliant and cunning and ingenious robot brain could have predicted this course of events – has to watch as Shaw slides his tongue between his lips, sucks at his mouth like possessed. There are sweet, little noises spilling out of her, and yet, they’re zero to no consolation to Meredith.

She growls, a low, grating sound in her throat like rubble. “You know, I watched David’s model being manufactured. He doesn’t even have a dick.”

Beneath her, the omega smiles, slurs between mouthing at David’s jaw and neck, “Whoever cares for what’s between a person’s legs.”

“He’s not even a person!” Meredith explodes. “He’s a- a goddamn machine!”

If that’s jealousy writhing in her belly like a pit of snakes, she doesn’t even care.

Shaw draws back, keeps her hold on David’s head to make her face him. The android’s pupils are widened, his lips slick with saliva. Meredith thinks she can see tiny cogwheels whirr behind his eyes – cataloguing Shaw’s taste, the drag of her tongue against his lips, her body temperature. Filing away the data he’s just experienced for later use.

Shaw gives him a languid, genuine smile. “David. Do you think of yourself as a person?”

The whirring stops. David glances up at Meredith.

“I would not necessarily categorize myself as the human definition of the term, Elizabeth,” he says slowly – well knowing Meredith is scrutinizing him with her glacier gaze – “though I like to believe that I have developed an own personality, which would well give me the right to designate myself a person. An entity of my own.”

Meredith snorts. Shaw just gives a triumphant smile and let’s go of David, who straightens up like nothing happened.

“He still disgusts me,” Meredith finally mutters. In fact, she can feel the swelling of her knot going down by the minute since David’s unlucky presence was highlighted to her through Shaw’s actions. “If we ever repeat this, I want him to get the fuck out of my sight.”

“We’ll see about that,” Shaw purrs, and then her hands are suddenly on Meredith’s bra, unclipping it so she can cup the alpha’s tits in her hands and knead them in unveiled appreciation. “Mrrm, nice,” is the last thing Meredith registers from the omega before the heat in her gut swells once more and she growls, forgetting all about kissing androids and respecting society’s rules, plunging in to slam Shaw up against the headboard and give her another one of the most thorough shaggings she must have ever received.

  
  


A mere few weeks later, it dawns to Meredith why Elizabeth Shaw is unlike any other omega to her.

She has her enlightenment as they – Elizabeth, David, she herself – lay tangled on a cot in an alien ship. The Engineers’ bedsheets are soft against her skin; the breath of the dozing omega she just bonded in a heated display of passion is searing on her breasts; the perished _Prometheus_ ’ android is sitting up beside her, the perfectly modeled plains of his body bare, his eyes staring off into empty space.

Meredith always, _always_ desired someone who would be an apt match for her. Just as cunning, just as ruth- and rootless. A heart without mercy.

The Doctor Shaw she knew never appeared to be such a woman. Kind, curious, seeking to explore without exploiting. Even to an unfeeling robot, she would be considerate.

However, the Elizabeth she now calls her own is quite unlike her first impression. After all, it was Elizabeth who convinced her to abandon her chance at two year’s worth of lonely survival on LV-223 and join her on an uncertain odyssey through space, to maybe – or maybe not – meet humanity’s creators. It was Elizabeth who made her take needle and thread to David’s severed head so they would have one more plaything to entertain them.

It was Elizabeth who leaned forward today when they were fucking, who grazed the skin just above Meredith’s bond gland with her teeth, who moaned in assent when Meredith sprang forward and buried her own fangs above Elizabeth’s clavicle.

It’s Elizabeth who possesses her now.

David turns to her when she sighs. “Ma’am,” he asks, hair ruffled beyond belief from Elizabeth’s – and, yes, Meredith’s – grasping hands, “was my performance today to your taste?”

“Fuck off, David,” she grunts.

He smiles a thin, superior smile. “You know, Meredith… you will have to learn to live with my presence by your side one day. Elizabeth at least seems highly disinclined to get rid of me.”

Meredith glances down at her – _her_ , not Holloway’s, not anyone else's – omega by her side. Elizabeth’s breathing is even. Her ribcage rises and falls slowly beneath the blankets, and from time to time, her delicately curved eyelashes flutter as though caught in a dream.

“Then let’s not hope that you _accidentally_ fall and knock your head off again,” Meredith mutters.

David’s smile doesn’t falter. If anything, she thinks she can see it growing more amused.

“Yes, Ma’am. Of course.”

And then, he’s gone. He gets up, shucks out of the sheets in an elegant flourish and strides out of the door, which swings closed after him.

Meredith, her exhaustion heavy in her bones, lets herself fall down onto the pillows. The image of the android’s pale, sinuous body has burned herself into the back of her eyelids; his small, slim smile; the crinkles around his eyes distracting her from his pupils’ mechanic twitching.

What has she gotten herself into to?

After she falls asleep, she dreams of the empty vastness of space – and three tiny, tiny dots of consciousness swimming in its deep, glimmering black.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you liked it! If you did, please consider leaving kudos and a comment. It doesn't have to be anything elaborate, just a "+kudos" or a "loved it!" would make my day!!! It means so much to an author to see people take the time to actually type out words instead of simply hitting one (1) button, and it's a very easy way to make us writers - who dedicate so much of our free time to create content for you - happy!


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